


Dragonheart and Dragontongue

by KinkyGrrlDiane (AnneTaylor)



Series: Dragonheart and Dragontongue [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:40:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21716275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneTaylor/pseuds/KinkyGrrlDiane
Summary: When the forces of He Who Must Not Be Named combine with the formidable resources of Lucius Malfoy, Hogwarts is under siege and doomed. Then Harry discovers something about Draco that forever changes the way he sees him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Dragonheart and Dragontongue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606870
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Offers of an Intimate Nature

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Potter/Draco fanfic. It started as just a drabble, but kept growing. Not sure where to go with it yet but it sounds like fun.
> 
> Unfortunately, I wrote this nine years ago and my Potterese is rather rusty. I have started on the next chapter, but I am going to need some beta time. If anyone with experience writing, or even with a very good command of the HP universe wants to lend a hand, please let me know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts is under attack by the Death-eaters and Lucius Malfoy. Harry and Draco watch out the window as death approaches in the form of a rather large dragon. Then Draco is persuaded to cast a spell of last resort. Harry finds that as much of a git as Draco is, he can't just watch him die.

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Neville huddled miserably in one corner of the sofa.

Harry tried to think of something reassuring to say, but failed utterly. _He’s right. We’re going to die_. He looked around the room, at the sea of faces gathered in the common room. Some of the first and second years were crying, and many of the older girls. None of them could help flinching at the sound of each explosion, watching the flares of light that burst through the window. None of the deadly energies passed through the shield which had been erected around much of Hogworts, but the screaming hiss that marked each attack seemed to pass in some indefinable way into the hearts of each of them.

“Everyone dies, Longbottom,” Draco Malfoy drawled. He was immaculately dressed, not a silver-blonde hair out of place, for all that he’d likely been rousted out of a sound sleep and sent immediately to join his fellow students, also rousted from their beds in the middle of the night.

As always, Harry thought resentfully. All the other inhabitants of the Griffindor common room looked as rumpled and uncertain as Harry felt. Trust Malfor to make grooming a priority, even now. It was intolerable, being forced to huddle here with him so close, but the instructors had been clear; in case an escape opportunity opened up, they all needed to stay together. It was just fortunate that most of the students had been home for the holidays when the attack began.

“You know what he meant,” snapped Ron. “I suppose you’re not afraid, Malfoy? Figure daddy-kins will come to your rescue as soon as…as soon as…”

“As soon as the shield the instructors put up fails,” Harry finished bleakly. All eyes were drawn to the room’s single window, through which could be seen the luminous blue of the curved dome which was the only barrier between the keep inhabitants and the horrors that surrounded them. Harry glanced back at Malfoy, feeling resentment like a knife edge to his heart. _Why are they wasting their energies protecting him if he isn’t in any danger?_ He knew the thought wasn’t rational; it took no more energy to put up a shield around twenty-four than twenty five. Still, the idea offended him. It also puzzled him. Malfoy had a home to go to; why was he here? Ron and Hermoine were just here to cheer him up, but Malfoy?

Malfoy’s lips tightened. “You think I’d be wasting my time socializing with you, Weasley, if I had any choice? My father and I aren’t on speaking terms right now. I doubt he’d lift a finger to save me.”

“Is he out there, right now? With…with Him?” Pansy Parkinson asked.

Malfoy shrugged.

“The instructors will think of something,” Hermoine patted Neville reassuringly. “We’ll be fine. Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m n…not afraid,” Neville exclaimed indignantly. “Well, maybe I’m afraid, but I’m not a coward,” he amended anxiously.

“That is a statement of remarkable profundity, Longbottom,” Draco observed.

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Ron’s fists clenched.

“Or what? You’ll hurl invectives at me?” Draco’s lip curled disdainfully. “Besides, it was a compliment that I paid to Longbottom just now. Cherish the occasion. I doubt I’ll be inclined to repeat it.”

“We aren’t accomplishing anything, fighting amongst ourselves like this,” Hermoine pointed out loudly. She rose and grabbed up a handful of quills and writing paper. “I’m going to the library.”

“Good idea,” said Alluvia Eiderdown. The plump, rather dreamy faced Hufflepuff sighed. “We all need to curl up with a good book. That will keep our minds off this terrible ordeal until the instructors can defeat the monsters menacing our school.”

Crabbe, who was standing behind Malfoy, made a rude noise.

“I was thinking more along the lines of doing something useful,” Hermoine said dryly. “The instructors are busy maintaining the shield. The trouble is that they may not be able to hold it against the amount of raw power that V..that He is throwing at us.” Her eyes strayed to Malfoy’s, and for a moment they stared at one another. Malfoy paled. “Maybe we can find something helpful in the books,” Hermoine continued without pause, as if nothing had happened. “Something that will help strengthen the shield.”

“Or some way we can escape,” a third year Ravenclaw added excitedly.

“Or a spell to turn great evil to dust,” piped up one of the first years hopefully.

Green light exploded in through the window, bathing the room and turning everyone’s face a pale emerald. Harry watched the shields burn and crackle and sputter, and then they slowly faded back to a normal, healthy sky blue.

“That…that wasn’t Infernus, was it?” Neville quavered, looking at Hermoine.

“No.” Her jaw clenched, then Hermoine resolutely squared her shoulders. “Anyone who wants to do something productive, follow me.”

Eagerly, the sea of students surged in her wake, emptying the room in a trice. Harry found himself alone but for Malfoy, who was gazing out the window, his long-fingered hands gripping the sill edges, the heels of his hands pressed against the stone as if he was afraid someone would be moved to shove him from behind.

“Why aren’t you going with your little friends, Potter?" Malfoy’s voice sounded distant and…almost weary.

“Why aren’t you?” Harry shot back.

“I see no point in wasting my time in useless pursuits obviously invented to direct people’s hysterical energy into harmless channels.”

“That’s not useless.”

“It is as it concerns me. I have no hysterical energy to dissipate.”

“Hermoine might find something useful,” Harry felt compelled to defend his friend, even though he privately agreed with Malfoy’s assessment. “There might be a weakness we could exploit, or a spell that could drive V…Voldemort back.” It was still hard to bring himself to say the Dark Lord’s name, habit mostly, since bringing himself to Voldemort’s attention wasn’t an issue any more now that his forces were right outside the castle.

“I suppose if anyone could, it would be Granger. Her mind is almost as sharp as her tongue,” Malfoy remarked. Another flare of light stained his face a deep purple.

He looks like a prince, Harry thought resentfully. Like he thinks he’s the Lord of the Castle or something. Looking down on the peasants fighting at his command and frowning because too many of them are dying and now he’ll have to replace them. “Can you see anything?”

There was a long pause, and Harry wondered if Malfoy had heard him. The answer, when it came, was so quiet he almost missed it.

“Nothing good.”

“Are the shields weakening?” Harry approached the window and Malfoy unclenched his fingers, moving aside to make room.

“Not yet. But these aren’t ablative shields. They’ll be full strength until the moment they go down. I’m not sure, but I think that may have been a mistake. Relying on pure power rather than a skillful weave.”

“They couldn’t have known…how many he’d bring with him.” Harry was proud of how steady his voice was. There was a calmness inside him, a quiet, strong cove of safety that he felt he was clinging to, like a rock standing firm against a stormy sea. _Where is this coming from?_ he wondered.

“No. I suppose not. The dragon was…unexpected.”

Harry shivered. He’d only caught a brief glimpse of the creature before the shields went up, all black, gleaming armor and glowing red eyes, flame edging the long, wicked teeth.

As if in response to his thought, or perhaps Malfoy’s remark, a great shadow passed over the surface of the shield. Gouts of dragonfire sprayed across the magical dome, turning the blue to sickly green and making the barrier crackle and groan with the effort of shedding the magical inferno.

“He must have promised it something,” Malfoy mused. “The Great Drakes can’t be compelled or deceived. And they don’t bother much with people, usually.” Malfoy’s eyes were unfocused.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. He could see Malfoy’s wand twitching and the subtle tingle of a spell being cast. A sudden fear sent dread spurting through his limbs. “What spell are you casting, Malfoy!?”

“Tell you in…a minute,” Malfoy returned vaguely.

As Harry watched, the movements of the Slytherin’s hands became more pronounced and surer. _What should I do? Should I try to interrupt his spell?_ What if Malfoy was secretly in league with Voldemort? What if he was trying to sabotage the shields? _I could push him out the window._ Harry felt the prickle of a nervous sweat break out over his skin. _I could kill Draco Malfoy._ The thought made his stomach hurt.

Suddenly a line of power snapped into existence, running like a writhing blue snake from Malfoy’s mid-regions, navel, most likely, to the shields. Harry could sense the flow of energy moving from Malfoy to the shield.

He sagged against the window frame with relief. “You could have told me what you were doing,” he snapped resentfully. “I almost pushed you out the window.”

Malfoy looked surprised, then considered the idea gravely. “Maybe. I have good reflexes, though.”

“That’s not the point, you stupid git!” Harry was angry at himself for admitting his homicidal almost-act to Malfoy. “You should have told me what you were doing. I thought you were trying to break the shield.”

“If I was inclined to do that I’d have no qualms about lying to you about what spell I was casting,” Malfoy pointed out, the sarcastic drawl returning to his voice. His grey eyes turned the color of stone.

Harry experienced a pang of regret. For a moment Malfoy had seemed almost…human. He shrugged. “I suppose. You could be lying now.”

“About what? I haven’t said anything yet. You’re keeping up both sides of the conversation, Potter.” Malfoy went back to staring out the window. There was an unhappy set to his jaw.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional hiss or crackle, and the constant low hum of the shields.

“So…what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Potter?”

“If it was obvious, I wouldn’t have to ask, would I, Malfoy?”

“You might. If you were as fond of listening to the sound of your own voice as I always suspected.”

Harry flushed at the thought that leaped into his brain: _Not as fond as I am of listening to the sound of your voice…_ “You’re a complete and utter wanker, Malfoy. I hope the shield explodes and you get caught in the backlash.”

“Aha. So you do know…”

Harry glanced at Malfoy’s smug profile. Yes, in retrospect it was obvious what Malfoy had managed to do. His magical forces were firmly anchored to the dome that enclosed Hogworts, feeding the Slytherin’s magic directly into the spell. Then he noticed something else. “You didn’t set up any limits or filters, you stupid git.”

Draco’s sneer became a bit more pronounced.

So it had been deliberate, then. Harry had to admire Malfoy’s nerve. It was a dangerous move.

“You lose a lot of power that way,” Malfoy remarked unnecessarily.

Whatever flaws Malfoy possessed, cowardice wasn’t one of them. And it proved that Malfoy was entirely committed to seeing the shields hold. If they were taken down in a deliberate and controlled manner, he’d be released unharmed, though drained. But if the shields broke, the backlash…

…would most likely kill him.

Harry was suddenly aware of Malfoy’s gaze, fixed steadily on him. The Slytherin’s eyes were unreadable. “I suppose it would be a satisfyingly spectacular way to commit suicide, if that’s what you want.”

“Think about it, Potter. If He wins do you really want to be around to find out what happens next?”

No. No. Harry felt the beat of his heart pick up, until it drummed against his chest. His palms tingled and he wiped them off against his robe. “Teach me the spell,” he said.

Malfoy regarded him for a moment. “I’d rather not. If you get yourself killed everyone will blame me.”

“Since you’ll be dead too, why should that matter?”

“Hmm. Good point. All right, then. It’s not all that new. You know how to cast Magewall, right?”

“Yes.” It was a simple Second Year spell.

“Okay. The difference is in the target phrasing. If you use the generic word for Magewall, you just get a new wall. You have to know the True name of this particular wall, a wall that already exists.”

Harry gaped at him. “You know the True Name of a spell? That’s…that’s…” Beyond seventh year magic, certainly. “That’s a master level spell,” he admitted with awe.

Malfoy’s lips tightened. “I got it from Granger,” he admitted grudgingly. “She passed it on to me a moment ago, as she was leaving. She must have been working on it all afternoon. Or…” his eyes narrowed speculatively, “…she got it from someone else. I wonder…”

Harry fought back a sudden surge of anger at Hermoine’s action. If Malfoy had been a traitor, he could have passed the name on to Him. Armed with the shield’s True name it would have been child’s play for Voldemort to dis-spell it. Hogwort’s defenders would have had no time to put up another.

“…a test, maybe,” Malfoy was muttering to himself. “To see if I’d do it? No, it risks too much. The Name is genuine. And they can’t have left anything in reserve…”

“Malfoy. The Name?”

“…has to be some other explanation. Granger is good but she’s not that good. He’s up to something…he has to be…”

“Malfoy!”

Malfoy’s shock of white hair flipped back from his face as the Slytherin’s head snapped up. As their eyes locked, a name flowed into Harry’s brain. A Name, and the stark, unadorned components of the spell that would link Harry’s fate immutably to Hogworts’.

 _This isn’t necessary. This isn’t wise. The instructors will have a backup plan,_ a small voice whispered in the back of Harry’s mind. _They’ll have an escape route out of Hogwarts. But you must be alive in order to use it._

Coward, Harry accused the voice.

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed mockingly, as if he sensed the conflict raging inside Harry’s head.

 _Who knows?_ Harry thought. _Maybe he can._ He hadn’t felt the communications link between them break.

If Slytherin had the courage to risk all for the House’s sake, could Griffendor do any less? With a challenging glare at Malfoy, Harry raised his wand and cast the spell.

It was surprisingly easy. Harry felt his magic begin to drain away into the brilliant green cord sucking hungrily at his navel.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Malfoy offered.

“Yah.” Weird. That was a good word for it. He could now sense the magewall more clearly and directly, as if he had become part of it. It stretched out, surrounding Hogworts, a giant shell protecting the vulnerable lives inside.

Hermoine. Ron. Neville. All his classmates and friends. The instructors. Harry could feel the flow of their magics joining his, merging with him, feeding him…all the students had cast a carefully filtered drain to add their energies to the protection of Hogwarts.

“None of them had the nerve to do what we did,” Malfoy remarked, giving voice to the thought that had just flitted through Harry’s mind.

“No.” It made him feel proud and scared. _If none of them did it, it must be a bad thing._

“We’re contributing, all by ourselves, as much as all the rest. The shield is a little over twice as strong as it was,” Malfoy crowed. “We’re going to save everything, practically by ourselves. Here’s a claw in your eye, you foul, stinking, ugly, cursed rapist!” he hissed out the window.

“Harry! Draco!” Dumbledore’s voice thundered right next to Harry’s ear, making him jump. “This isn’t necessary. This isn’t wise. You don’t understand…”

With a snap of Draco’s wand, Dumbledore’s image disappeared abruptly.

“Oh, you’re going to be in big trouble for that,” Harry breathed, half annoyed, half envious.

Not as bad as if I'd let him finish," Malfoy returned slyly. "This way, I can truthfully say I wasn't disobeying the headmaster's orders."

 _Snape would approve_. Harry jumped a little, wondering where the thought had come from. "You wouldn't have dared pull that one with Snape."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and he gave Harry a strange, examining look. "I wouldn't have had to. Professor Snape understands the necessity of risk and personal sacrifice." <He's had to, all these years of hiding his true loyalties from Voldemort...>

 _I'm reading Malfoy's mind_ , Harry realized with dismay. _I wonder if he knows..?_

Malfoy suddenly froze and stared at him with horror. "Curse you, Potter! Get out of my mind!"

The Slytherin was furious at having involuntarily betrayed Snape's activities, Harry realized. Snape, a Death Eater? Reporting Voldemort's activities to Dumbledore...

"Dammit!" Malfoy hissed. He made a curt gesture, and then slashed downward with his wand. "I can't break it! Potter. Put up a shield or something."

Harry tried, but either he was too drained or the mind spell was too strong. "What did you cast on us?"

"Just a simple communication. It should have been easy to dispel."

IT AMUSED ME TO KEEP IT IN PLACE, LITTLE INSECT.

It was like an explosion of sound, no, not sound. Thoughts. Concepts. A sledgehammer in his brain.

Malfoy's face turned white as a sheet. "No," he breathed. "No. This can't be happening. The shield should have protected us."

YOU ARE NO LONGER INSIDE THE SHIELD, HUMAN. YOU HAVE MADE YOURSELF PART OF IT AS, THUS, EXPOSED YOURSELF TO ME.

Frantically, Malfoy spat words and batted in the direction of the shield with his wand, as if he could physically beat it away from himself.

TOO LATE. YOUR MIND IS OPEN TO ME UNTIL I CHOOSE TO RELEASE IT.

My brain hurts, thought Harry. This must be what it's like to go to a Muggle rock concert. The sheer volume pounding against your skull...

FRAGILE, FOOLISH INSECTS. YOU BLUNDER ABOUT IN THE AETHER, USING THAT WHICH YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND. PATHETIC.

<Teach me?> breathed Harry longingly. To be taught magic by a dragon...

He was almost knocked unconscious by the tidal wave of amusement and scorn. PRESUMPTUOUS INSECT.

<Maybe I'd amuse you> Harry suggested, part of him screaming in fear at what he was trying to do. <I could serve you...> the thought struggled reluctantly from his mind, choking on the concept of servitude, even to this immensely powerful creature, but he sensed that no other relationship would be acceptable to such a being.

The dragon's attention focused on him, wedging his mind open like the two halves of a clam shell. It was uncomfortable and painful and terrifying.

SUCH PRIDE, FOR AN INSECT. TO SERVE THE STARBORN IS MORE THAN YOU SHOULD ASPIRE TO, INSECT.

"Starborn?" breathed Malfoy. He edged closer to the window, where Harry could see two huge glowing orbs hovering like disembodied light globes just on the other side of the shield. "You're a Star Drake? That's impossible. How could Voldemort...what could Voldemort possibly have to offer that would interest one of the Great Lords of Dragonkind?"

The pulse of <greed-desire-possessiveness> that flowed from the dragon’s mind caused the muscles of Harry's chest to seize up; for a long moment he struggled in an effort to breathe.

 _I knew it. I knew it_. The thought was Malfoy's, bitter with betrayal.

<What?!> Harry wanted to gasp, but he still couldn't breathe. <What does it want?>

VIRGIN SACRIFICE the dragon's mind rumbled. YOU ARE MINE, SMALL INSECT. YOUR ENERGIES WILL BE USED TO A GREATER PURPOSE. YOU CANNOT COMPREHEND THE HONOR AFFORDED YOU.

 _Nooo…_ Harry's mind shook with fear, and then he realized that the dragon wasn't talking to him.

Malfoy. Malfoy was the sacrifice.

Stars were beginning to explode in his oxygen starved brain. Harry dragged in one lungful of air, expelled it, and then another. He tried to restore some semblance of discipline to his chaotic thoughts.

Dragons. Virgin sacrifice. Harry tried to recall any details he might have learned about the subject from his Care Of Magical Creatures classes. Hagrid had spent two entire days on dragons and hadn’t mentioned anything about virgin sacrifices except to mention that dragons used to be thought of as gods or demons by ignorant peasants, and that young women (virgins, Harry realized, reading between the lines) were sacrificed to them to turn aside the powerful creatures’ wrath.

SOME INSECTS ARE MORE FOOLISH THAN OTHERS the dragon remarked. THE SACRIFICE MUST BE DONE PROPERLY, OR THE MAGIC IS LOST.

“I wish to re-negotiate the bargain,” Malfoy’s voice was raspy. He coughed once and struggled into a sitting position.

IT WOULD BE INAPPROPRIATE FOR ME TO RENEGOTIATE A BARGAIN ALREADY SEALED, the dragon protested mildly, but Harry could sense that it was interested.

“My father promised something he couldn’t deliver.” Darkness roiled along Malfoy’s words. “You can’t take me as long as the shield is up, and if the shield collapses, I’m dead.” _I’m dead either way_ , Malfoy’s mind echoed bleakly. He drew his knees in against his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

YOU SPEAK TRUTH. The dragon’s eyes moved closer to the barrier and the glow of them brightened. Harry could see the slitted pupils, the golden corneas, tinged green by the shield. WHAT IS YOUR OFFER?

“I offer you my virgin energies,” Malfoy’s voice was steady, thought Harry could see that his hands were clenched, fingers digging into his own legs. “Freely and without reservation. No bargains. No price. A gift.”

A sudden gout of flame sizzled along the shield’s surface. The dragon’s eyes were wide. A GIFT. YOU OFFER…FREELY. IT IS A GIFT WORTHY OF THE STARBORN. Wonder tinged the dragon’s tone. THE POWER OF IT…I HAD NOT THOUGHT TO REACH MY COMPLETION SO SOON. I ACCEPT YOUR GIFT, HUMAN MAGE.

Draco Malfoy’s head fell forward onto his knees..

“He doesn’t have to die, does he?” Harry whispered. “If the sacrifice is willing?” He wasn’t certain where that piece of knowledge had come from, but he was certain of its truth.

IT IS TRADITIONAL the dragon protested mildly, but again, Harry could sense that there was no real insistence behind the words.

<Draco.> Harry could clearly feel the other boy’s misery, the blackness of his hatred for a father who would bargain away his son’s life. Bitterness, knowing that his life would end and there would be no one to mourn him or even note his passing.

<I would.> Harry staggered to his feet and faced the dragon. _I care_. It was a realization that pierced him with regret and apprehension.

The dragon was silent. The pupils of its eyes had widened, almost swallowing the entire eye in blackness.

“I…” Gods, I can’t believe I’m saying this… “I offer you mine, too. If neither of us has to die.”

YOU OFFER ME A BARGAIN, SMALL MAGE? WHAT DO YOU OFFER?

“M…my virginity. Virgin energies,” Harry felt his face grow hot. _I wonder how virginity is extracted?_ “In exchange for your promise not to kill either of us. And not to serve Voldemor’s interests any more,” he added hastily. He longed to add _and to kill Voldemort and all his allies_ but something warned him it was a request he would come to regret.

NOT AS RICHLY TAINTED AS THE OTHER, the dragon remarked wryly BUT STILL WORTH THE PRICE. I ACCEPT.

Draco Malfoy raised his head to stare incredulously at Harry. Tears glittered on his long lashes. “What are you doing, Potter?”

“Isn’t it obvious, D…Malfoy?”

The dragon’s eyes burned with approval for Draco. YOU HAVE THE SOUL OF A DRAGON, MAGE, OR AS NEAR AS A HUMAN CAN COME TO IT. CRAFTY, STRATEGIC, SOLITARY. YOUR GIFT MAKES YOU PRECIOUS TO ME. YOU HAVE OFFERED ME MY HEART’S DESIRE. I OWE YOU NOTHING LESS. AND YOU… Harry felt his thoughts being sifted through once more, but more carefully this time. THERE IS A DELIGHTFUL FLAVOR TO YOUR THOUGHTS. YOU ARE WHAT THE HUMANS CALL A PARSELTONGUE.

Harry could only nod. His heart was pounding painfully against his chest. _What’s going to happen now? What am I supposed to do? Will it hurt?_

DRAGON HEART AND DRAGON TONGUE. A MOST PLEASURABLE AND POTENT COMBINATION. YOU WILL JOIN TOGETHER FOR ME. AT YOUR MOMENT OF COMPLETION YOUR MAGICS WILL MINGLE AND THE SACRIFICE WILL BE TAKEN.

Harry gulped. Did that mean what he thought it meant? He stole a glance at Draco, but the Slytherin’s gaze slipped away from his.

BUT… continued the dragon, and Harry felt an overwhelming compulsion drag his gaze back to the dragon’s burning orbs …YOU ARE NOT…RIPE…YET.

Burning agony seared his chest and mouth and Harry screamed, hearing Draco’s twin cry of pain. The last thing he was aware of as he lost consciousness was the dragon’s satisfied purr. I WILL RETURN WHEN YOU ARE. DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME.


	2. Revelations of an Intimate Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape watches as Hogwarts falls to Lucius' forces. If it hadn't been for the dragon they'd have had a chance. And then everything changes. How did Draco and Harry manage to persuade the dragon to abandon its assault? Snape is determined to find out.

Snape stood outside Hogwarts, blanketed in a Nil Animadverto, a variation of his own invention. It wasn’t invisibility, which is something that most spies had counters to. Dumbledore would have told him it was foolish to expose himself when enemies ringed the place, but Lucius and his ilk had not yet figured out that Snape’s loyalty was no longer with their Dark Lord, and it would be easy to explain, were he noticed.

That was unlikely. Everyone’s attention was on the dragon.

Gouts of green dragonfire limned the dome of magical force that protected what was left of Hogwarts. Most of the wings were gone. Only Gryffindor remained intact, and much of Slytherin. Slytherin by virtue of the fact that it was resistant to dragonfire and much of it was underground, and Gryffindor because of Dumbledore’s golden boy. Hufflepuff was little more than rubble. Of course, they would merely pick themselves up, dust their arses off and merrily get to work rebuilding.

Ravenclaw would take it the hardest. There were a number of artifacts and a mountain of private research squirreled away in student desks. It was to be hoped that they might have managed to save some of it, but most of the students were home for the holiday.

The eerie green light splashed in a searing wave, lighting up the entire side of the ancient building. There were two boys standing side by side in the window, watching the dragon. That was odd, who would have the temerity to stare down a dragon..? Snape adjusted his vision spell, then snorted. Of course. Malfoy and Potter. For very different reasons, he would guess. Potter, just because Malfoy was doing it. The boy had a strongly competitive streak that was pure Slytherin. Sometimes Snape thought that it was a pity the hat had chosen as it did.

Malfoy...did Draco suspect what the dragon had come for?

Of course he did. A vein of anger ran along Snape's nerves and he stopped for a moment to compose himself. The sentiment was acceptable, the emotion must be suppressed. He could not afford to waste power, especially not now.

Suddenly, his enhanced vision caught a detail that made his blood run cold. An almost imperceptible line of blue spots decorated the dragon's ebony side.

The creature was a Star Drake. Snape's legs gave way beneath him and he tumbled to the ground. The cold water soaked into the material of his trousers and stockings. That's it, then. A Star Drake.

It made a terrible sense. Pieces of the puzzle were sliding into shape, and the picture was grim beyond anything he had imagined. It explained why Lucius Malfoy had been so keen to commit to the attack, rolling out hidden resources that Snape hadn't even known he had. It explained why the older Malfoy had been willing to sacrifice his king piece in the game, his best and brightest son, the heir to his empire. Though, Draco was more the queen than the king. Lucius had expended himself long ago and his only source of power lay in his control of his various offspring and intimate relationships.

If Lucius had made a bargain with a Star Drake, they were all...very thoroughly fucked.

Malfoy and Potter were arguing, no surprise there. At times they reminded Snape of two male cats, hissing and spitting over the same lap. Now Malfoy was casting a spell. Snape hoped it was something practical and not merely a means of passing the time by irritating Potter. He lip-read as best he could. The gestures were familiar, but something was missing...

Snape's breath exploded out in a hiss. Well done, boy! Grief threatened to rear its ugly head but Snape pushed it aside, Draco deserved better than that. Malfoy was a Slytherin. We do not simply die fighting, we take our enemies with us.

An unlimited feed. The dragon could not break down the shield without killing Draco, thereby depriving itself of its prize.

Stalemate. For Lucius Malfoy, that would mean he had broken faith with a Star Drake. Whether he would be able to appease it, Snape could not even begin to guess.

What would the drake do? Snape picked himself up, grimacing at the cold, clammy feel of the swamp-soaked trousers against his legs. He shivered as he watched his future, and that of the entire wizardling world, balanced on the wings of a dragon and the courage of a boy.

Merlin’s Deepest Pits. Two boys. Potter's unfiltered life forces swelled the barrier that protected Hogwarts. Dimly, he heard Dumbledore's frantic summons. Snape chuckled. No doubt Dumbledore would be in a state. His precious Harry Potter, caught like a fly, his precious little arse hanging out the window, metaphysically speaking, of course. Snape spared a moment of bitterness that until it was Harry whose life was in danger, Dumbledore hadn't given a shite.

Well done, boy.

The breath caught in Snape’s throat as the dragon perched on the side of the tower of Gryffindor, claws digging into the mage-wall as if it were solid stone. The shield flared. How was the beast doing it? Star Drakes were eaters of magic, which made them immune to most magic. Only a magical drain could affect them, and any wizard foolish enough to think they could drain a Star Drake seldom had time to regret it.

Then, with a bellow of mingled triumph and rage, the Star Drake launched itself into the sky.

Snape held his breath.

The drake dived, with a gout of violet flame, through the thickest cluster of Death Eaters and the allies. Manticores and acid drakes howled and took flight, Gorts and Skrewts dived for cover, Salazards and Acromantulas scuttled away, packs of Gytrashes howled and sizzled.

The Death Eaters died, reduced to mounds of ashy detritus. Lucius’ army, decimated.

Well done, boy. Tears sprang into Snape’s eyes. Whatever price you paid, know that it was well worth it. It would be a day that went down in the annals of Slytherin history, not the public deeds put on show for the sake of competing with the other houses, but the real roles, the teaching tales.

Snape waited a moment longer, watching the splendidly powerful serpentine drake soar into the air and disappear abruptly in mid-downstroke. Then he began to walk back toward Hogwarts.

* * *

“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”

Spots crawled about in the recesses of his consciousness. Harry batted at them, feeling the back of his hand connect with warm flesh.

“Ow!”

Harry’s head felt heavy and his neck was stiff, as if the pillow had fallen awry during the night and he’d slept with his neck askew. “Whazzat…”

The spots grew legs and crept away, back into the darkness that lurked in the back of his mind. It was…a spell. He thought the spiders were watching him, their eyes tiny golden pinpricks of light that blinked and changed position when he wasn’t directly watching them.

“You just bloody whacked me, you prat!”

Harry opened his eyes to see Ron looming over him. He was lying on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. Hermoine was standing beside Ron, her arms on her hips.

“What happened?” Ron looked uneasily past Harry to something out of Harry’s line of sight. “You and Malfoy have a row?”

Malfoy? Something had happened…something to do with Malfoy. Malfoy and…a dragon? An image ripped the dark veil from his mind…Draco, head fallen forward onto his knees, alone in the solitary recesses of his mind…

_YOU HAVE THE SOUL OF A DRAGON, MAGE, OR AS NEAR AS A HUMAN CAN COME TO IT. CRAFTY, STRATEGIC, SOLITARY._

The dragon. The dragon had said that about Draco.

Strange…he’d never seen that in Draco. The Slytherin had always been surrounded by sycophants and fellows. Harry had always assumed Draco was the type to make friends easily. If you could call them friends…

“Harry…” Hermoine’s voice was calm, but oddly without inflection. “Where did that spell come from?”

Harry pushed himself up, his head pounding. For a moment he peered, blinking, at two Hermoines, both throwing nervous glances between him and… Harry turned his head.

His vision resolved into a single image. Draco. He was crumpled beneath the open window. Crabbe stood over him, his puffy face creased into a look of confusion and vague suspicion. Goyle crouched over Draco, shaking him. His head tipped up, glaring menacingly at Harry. “What did you do to him?” he hissed.

“Me…nothing,” said Harry. _It must have been something the dragon did to us_.

The dragon. The Magewall. Alarmed, Harry glanced at the window. A steady blue glow emanated from it. There were no splashes of color or flashes of brilliance that would indicate an attack.

“You mean what did Draco do to Harry?” snarled Ron. “Harry, he attacked you, didn’t he?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Hermoine said uneasily. She looked at Harry.

It had been Hermoine who had given the spell to Draco. Obviously, she hadn’t meant for it to be shared. Her eyes had a question in them.

“What’s going on?” Harry pushed himself to his feet. “Are we still under attack?”

“Not sure,” said Roger Davies. His face was stern. It was a look that had quelled many a dust-up when he was captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. “Look, you lot. We don’t get along, all in different houses. But this is *serious*. The instructors are out there fighting to save our lives. If that bloody bastard whose name we’re not supposed to mention gets the upper hand it won’t make a bloody bit of difference what house we’re in.” His face twisted in frustration. “I just wish they’d let us *help*.”

Harry looked around. The Gryffindor common room was still mostly empty. “Is everyone still in the library?” he asked Hermoine.

“Yes.” She chewed on her lip. “I…came looking for you and found the two of you on the floor. I couldn’t wake you up. I…Roger came to help. He’s good with dis-spells.”

Roger Davies was also the oldest student present, being two years ahead of Harry and due to graduate this year. The only reason he was still at Hogwart’s over break was because Filius Flitwick had tapped him for head prefect and there was much to get done before the break ended.

Draco let out a low moan and his hands rose to his head, raking through his golden blonde hair.

The color of it reminded Harry of the dragon’s eyes, suddenly.

Draco batted at Goyle. “Don’t touch me!” There was an edge to his voice that Harry would have taken for irritation if he hadn’t remembered hearing that same edge in his voice earlier … _freely and without reservation. No bargains. No price. A gift.._. Draco under stress, then.

That’s two of us. He could feel the small eyes upon him, spies hung upon the fabric of his mind, watching him, watching his thoughts. It bothered him a great deal, but it occurred to him that it would, likely, bother Draco even more. _Solitary. Private_. Now, never alone.

“It was…just an accident,” he offered. “Malfoy and I were…”

“Were nothing!” snarled Draco. “I was attempting an experiment and Potter got in the way. As usual.”

“You bloody git!” Harry snapped. _Improvising here…_ Draco didn’t want their audience to know that there was any kind of cooperation going on. “Obviously you got it wrong. Unless you meant to get…stuck. Together.” The thin line of gold that bound them together was kind of obvious to anyone who could cast the right sort of reveal spell.

“I’d as soon have my face cemented to a house elf. Sod off, you pot of troll piss!” Draco raised his wand and cast a spell, which flashed down the line of dragon magic toward Harry.

“Murus conpareo!” A smaller version of the blue Magewall sprang up between Harry and Draco. Draco’s spell hit it with an explosion of burning cinders. One of them drifted down and set a pillow on fire.

“Enough! Do that again and I’ll put a binding on you, Malfoy,” spat Roger.

“You’re not *my* prefect,” Draco sneered.

“No. But I am able to cast at the prefect level. Test me and you’ll spend the rest of the day wrapped up in strands of your own hair. You can spend your time trying to figure out how to crawl out of it. Like a combination maze and web, with a little bit of brain fog thrown in just to prolong the fun. It’s my own invention.” Roger poised, wand raised. “Your choice, Malfoy.”

For a moment, Harry could see Draco struggling with the desire to fling caution to the wind and set his hand against the older boy. _Don’t do it, you bloody idjit_.

He doesn’t want people to know what happened. Any of it. Risking his life to keep the wall up. The Dragon. It didn’t make any sense at first; they’d say he was a hero, who wouldn’t want that…

Something flowed to him, in the dark undercurrents of the spell that bound him to Draco. Their praise would cheapen it. Like splashing gold leaf over a work of art that was meant to be hidden, only for those who could truly appreciate it for what it was.

 _It needs to be hidden_. Harry addressed the small watchers directly, hoping that they were intelligent enough to understand him. _If you want this to happen, if you want us to bond, it needs to be hidden from all eyes but our own. He won’t, can’t tolerate it otherwise._

The tiny golden eyes blinked. Several of them winked out, and new ones appeared, dimly, then grew in brightness. They *tasted* his mind, his words, his thoughts, reading the truth in them. Harry’s heartbeat faltered _so glad I didn’t try to fool them_ and then the golden line that bound him to Draco Malfoy faded to a color that wasn’t quite a color, more of a transparent ghostly presence.

“There,” he said, matter-of-factly. “It’s off. Must have had a time limit. Bloody glad of that…”

“Everything has a limit, Potter.” Draco’s voice was back to normal, arrogant and sure of his own superiority. “Oh. Except me, of course.” He gave a laugh. “Come on, let’s get out of here. The place is beginning to reek of mediocrity.” He strode past, trailed by Goyle and Crabbe. As he passed by, his shoulder glanced off Harry, knocking him back.

“Git!” Ron aimed a kick at Draco as he passed. Draco numbly sidestepped and the kick landed on Crabbe, who was a much larger target, instead.

“Out. Now.” Roger’s wand laid down a web of glowing disapproval in the air of the Gryffindor common room. The Slytherins headed out as quickly as they could manage.

“You okay, Harry?”

“Sure. It’s just Malfoy being Malfoy. You know…nothing much,” Harry replied. He rubbed at his arm, wondering at the odd comfort of that brief contact with Draco’s body.

“I’m going back to supervise,” Roger told Hermoine. “You Gryffindors stay in your common room, let’s make the library neutral ground. I haven’t heard anything from outside in a bit, I think the worst of the danger is over. Let’s try to get back to normal as quickly as possible.”

“Right,” said Hermoine. She looked over at Harry and brought out her wand. “Revelio!”.

“What’s that?” Ron looked curiously at the glowing umbilical that tethered Harry’s naval to the Magewall outside.

“Just a spell to boost the wall a bit,” Harry told him breezily. “That’s what…” he trailed off, afraid to say more. It was Hermoine’s spell, after all. Not sure how much trouble she’d be in when the instructors caught up.

“We’re all contributing,” said Ron. “Mine doesn’t look like yours, though.” Each of the students had cast a spell that looked like a giant blue octopus, with a number of arms that corresponded to…something. Harry wasn’t quite clear on how that worked. He’d had seven arms on him, Ron had three, Roger had eight, Hermoine…it was hard to count Hermoine’s because they kept moving about. More than eight, though. The head of the octopus sucked the energy in and channeled it to the wall’s defenses. Within five minutes of having been cast the spell faded from sight, so he hadn’t gotten to see how many legs the others had achieved.

“It’s a…different variation. Err…more direct. Nothing much.” Harry shrugged.

“It’s interesting. I’d like to examine it. Ron, I’m starved. I didn’t have time for lunch…too busy studying. Be a pal and grab me a bite?” Hermoine gave Ron a hopeful smile.

“Sure. I could use a bite myself. Want anything, Harry?”

“Thanks. Hot chocolate, if you can manage,” Harry tried to make his voice casual, watching his friend duck out beneath the Fat Lady. “Ummm…good work?” he told Hermoine. “Don’t know how you did it…true names are…tricky.”

She glared at him. “Idiot. Harry. How did you let Draco trick you into this? You could have been killed. You still might be.”

“Oh, thanks a lot.” Harry glared back at her. “You thought Malfoy would have the nerve to tie himself in but I wouldn’t? Fat lot of regard you must have of me. He isn’t even Gryffindor!”

Her lips thinned. “You weren’t supposed to be around when he cast it.”

“I don’t get it, Hermoine.” Harry gave her a hurt look. “Why did you give it to Malfoy? The…name,” he lowered his voice. “He could have done anything with it. He could have killed us all. He’s Malfoy. You trusted him and not me?”

“I didn’t trust him.” Hermoine’s eyes avoided his. “Exactly. I just knew that he…that he wouldn’t want the wall to go down. That he had an even better reason to be afraid of what was out there than we did.”

“What?”

“Harry…I don’t really want to talk about it.”

I wonder how much she knows. “Fine.” He pretended to be angry, but Harry didn’t want to talk about it, either.

Hopefully, things would all work out without him having to talk to anyone.

Until the dragon came back.

* * *

The next day was a somber one. Dumbledore summoned everyone into the library and made a speech. It was inevitable and expected and necessary; Snape made himself appear to be watching intently, when, instead, he was studying Malfoy and Potter.

Both of the boys looked shell-shocked. Not the same devastated look as the other boys wore; there was something more beneath it. A secret knowledge. A new burden, the weight of which Snape was certain neither boy was prepared to bear.

Left to their own devices, it was likely that Potter would end up confessing what he knew to Dumbledore, and that’s when things would go badly awry. Dumbledore was masterful in his own sphere, but he knew nothing of dealing with serpentines. He might or might not have the good sense to consult with Snape, but it was not a thing Snape could afford to leave to chance. Not when dealing with a Star Drake.

After the speech, which concluded with something to the effect of “We will rebuild, we will rejoice, we will move forward” and was accompanied by the loud cheering of three and a half Hufflepuffs, the boys were dismissed.

Snape drifted by Malfoy, who had remained sitting, his arms draped in a deliberately casual manner than was belied by the tenseness of his expression. He ducked his head at Snape’s approach.

“Headmaster.”

“Meet me in the dungeon in half an hour’s time. Bring Potter.”

Malfoy’s look of terror was painful to behold.

“Pull yourself together, boy,” Snape hissed. “You are Slytherin.”

“Sir, it’s not that…”

“I know exactly what it is. I saw you and Potter dealing with the drake.” He softened his voice. Even a Slytherin had his breaking point, and it was clear that Malfoy was close to his. It was not surprising; physical proximity to a Star Drake had shattered the sanities of lesser men. If what Snape suspected had come to pass… “You need not deal with this alone, Draco. I am your adviser and I would hope you consider me your mentor as well. I am not angry with you, quite the opposite. Half an hour.” Without waiting for a reply, Snape swept on past and exited the room.

* * *

As Snape had expected, Draco was quite prompt. Snape allowed himself a moment of surprise at the sight of Potter hot on Draco’s heels. “Draco. Harry. Shut the door.”

Harry, as the last one through, complied.

Snape left them standing. This was not a social occasion.

“Draco, I will not compel you against your will, but as your mentor I request it of you, and with the understanding that you would not have revealed these things to me had I not personally requested it " he watched Draco's eyes widen, understanding the significant of what Snape was saying "I ask you to share your situation with me. If you wish me to send Potter off on his business, I will."

The two boys exchanged a glance, wary, but not openly hostile.

"He can stay," said Draco. "What, exactly are you asking for, sir?"

Snape smiled. Again, well done. Make the contract reveal itself fully before beginning to negotiate.

"I wish from you full disclosure of all matters pertaining to your relationship with the Star Drake, past, present and future. In return I will offer a vow of Secrecy on the matter, with the standard clause that you may, at any time, by mutual request, ask me to reveal any part or parts that you desire to be made public. I will furthermore offer you the benefit of my advice, and whatever training I might give you in order to accomplish the most positive outcome to your interactions with the dragon. As long as you will agree to be guided by me in the application of any training which I am responsible for rendering to you,” he remembered to add.

Draco’s eyes widened. He knew the worth of what was being offered, and the strategy involved. Potter was obviously still trying to work out whether he'd come out ahead or behind on the deal.

“I accept, sir.”

“Wait a minute,” Potter complained peevishly. “Shouldn’t we consult on this, Draco? You can’t make decisions for both of us.”

“You are free to leave, Mr. Potter. Immediately.” Snape wondered how long it would take Potter to realize that if he left now, Draco would be in possession of all the information and Potter left only with what he could glean from what was left of the library.

“I told you, Potter. In or out?” Draco glanced at him.

“All right. Fine. I accept.”

Not long, apparently. At a gesture, the incense blowers animated, selected a combination of knotweed, twofoil, yarrow and magnolia, and lit the small braziers on their saucers. The thick smoke began to curl up toward the ceiling. Snape drew his wand and etched the necessary patterns in the thickening air of the room. The solid planes of color shimmered and shifted as Snape’s fingers brushed over them, rearranging them until the configuration was optimal for the exact configuration of the spell.

“Draco Malfoy. Harry Potter. Approach, and make yourself known to the Veneficum.” It was a word older than mankind, a watcher who would witness a willing binding and warn of any violations. A more severe version would administer consequences as well, but Snape was mindful of the fact that he was dealing with two teenaged boys who could not always be counted on the act in their own best interests. Malfoy would understand the seriousness of their oath. Potter, not as much, and this was not the best time for a teaching moment.

It was as much for his protection as theirs. Dumbledore could not compel them to answer questions about anything that they would discuss, and Snape intended to bind as much of the subject as he could manage.

The two boys lined up opposite him, their images distorted in the panes of magic, like faces peering out through stained glass. Draco was the first to speak. He had, no doubt, been Veneficumed before. “I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, of the House of Slytherin. I enter into this contract freely, and of my own will.

Harry hesitated, then spoke, in a voice that was steady, if lacking in enthusiasm “I am Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, of the House of Gryffindor. I enter into this contract freely, and of my own will.”

Snape reached out his hand and brushed over a blue rhombus, shading it to purple and softening the corners. “I am Severus Tobias Snape, son of Tobius and Eileen Snape, of the House of Slytherin. I enter into this contract freely, and of my own will.”

The squares brightened, the colors intensifying until it was almost painful to look at. Snape repeated the specifics of their contract, then tapped the red oval, into which was etched an infinity symbol, with his fingernail. A soft chime sang and echoed, like a sigh in the wind. Then the Veneficum faded from sight.

“It is done.” Snape gestured, and two chairs slid themselves neatly across the floor. “Sit.” He let himself fall back onto his own chair in a rare admission of exhaustion.

Draco and Harry seated themselves. Harry’s back was straight as a flagpole, while Draco slouched in suitably Slytherin recline.

“First of all, do you have any idea what you are dealing with?”

“Star Drake. Greatest of the serpentines. Able to travel from star to star and withstand the most hostile environment. Immune to all magic,” Draco recited.

Snape nodded. “Not quite true. They can be affected by any spell which consumes magic from the object of the spell. However, the amount of power which it would take to accomplish that on a Star Drake renders the spell completely impractical.” He softened his voice. “You know what the drake came for?”

Draco nodded. His eyes flinched, but he held steady.

Snape let him read the question in his eyes.

“Potter knows as well.”

Snape arched his eyebrows. It didn’t seem like the sort of knowledge Draco would share with his enemy.

“The Star Drake spoke to us, through the magewall. We were both exposed.”

Snape nodded. He cleared his throat. “Well done. Both of you. I suspect none of the old fools out there will ever know or appreciate what you have done for them. But understand…I know. You have singlehandedly saved Hogwarts. Draco, my pride in you runs deeper than the Root of Night.”

Draco blushed.

“Harry, I can claim little in the forming of you, but those who did…they deserve to be proud as well.”

“Th..thank you. Sir.” Harry’s eyes were troubled.

“I have but one burning question…what was the bargain that you struck with the drake? I understand that binding your life energies to the magewall invalidated your father’s agreement with the drake, but directly after you spoke, the drake decimated the Death Eaters’ army. Why? What was your bargain?”

"I offered the dragon my energies, sir. All of them. I am virtually untouched."

“I would have expected nothing less of you,” Snape told him gravely. “In exchange for what?” What reward did Malfoy consider payment for losing everything that gave him power in the Slytherin system of sexual exchange?

Malfoy shook his head.

For a moment, the fury was so great Snape could barely keep it from his face. The son was worth ten times the father. Little he knew it, though. _If you were mine, boy, you would know your worth._ He composed his face and asked, with just the right degree of lightness, "how did the drake respond?"

The corner of Malfoy's mouth turned up. "It seemed quite...enthusiastic."

Snape didn't know enough about Star Drakes to hazard a guess as to what had caused that enthusiasm, and he guessed that Malfoy didn't want to talk about it. He glanced at Potter, who gulped and began to pluck nervously at his own lapels. "I offered mine as well," he blurted.

Surprising, but not terribly. There was an odd dynamic developing between the boys, one that bore watching. Not a cause for alarm yet; Malfoy's influence seemed to be ascendant. "And what did you ask in return for yours?" he inquired.

Potter's lips clamped shut.

"He asked the drake to spare my life." Malfoy didn't sound happy about it, but neither was he as thunderously angry as Snape would have expected. He seemed more bewildered than anything.

"Worthy of a Gryffindor," Snape remarked.

Potter flushed, and looked like he wasn't sure if Snape had meant it as a complement or an insult.

Snape wasn't sure himself. "So has the drake extracted its prize, yet?

Potter drew in on himself like a turtle poked with a stick, and Draco stiffened, staring straight ahead.

"It told us...we weren't ripe yet," Potter blurted. One of his fists clenched, pressed against his chest.

Snape tried to keep his voice carefully neutral. "So, it expects you to combine energies?" Sexual energies. No wonder they were both looking as if someone was dangling them over a cliff by their heels. Neither of them had any experience with the manipulation of sexual energies. Two unripe virgins, contemplating the approaching end of that state.

Snape had knowledge, of course, though it was only with the manipulation of other peoples' energies. Theoretically the principles would be the same. He eyed the boys, and wondered if it would be appropriate to offer his expertise, or if that would send Potter, at least, flying off like a bird with a cat after it.

Perhaps it would be best to speak to Draco in private. Though, perhaps not. Candor would be best in this case.

"It might be best if you kept this a private business between the two of you, for now. The dragon has flown off, the battle is won. You will both receive a scold from the headmaster for reckless endangerment, but I'm certain you will be able to weather it. If there is anything that you wish to inquire about concerning the process of sexual combination, or any other matter, please rest assured that anything we speak of within these walls shall remain confidential. I remain at your disposal. Dismissed."

He watched the boys scramble up and flee. For once Potter didn't slam the door as he left.

Interesting. He wondered if Hagrid knew anything about the habits of Star Drakes, and if he could be persuaded to divulge what he knew. He thought on the problem for a moment. There was a bottle of nagai brandy which had been spell-aged to well over a thousand years. Hagrid could not be bribed, but he could be gotten very drunk.


End file.
